Another pawn in the game
by Bombsquad
Summary: To some it's a game, just a game, a game with people as pawns. People who have motivations to be manipulated and used for the purposes of others. But sometimes you need to gather up more pieces before you can start to truly play the game. Rebecca / OC


OOC: Don't own Resident Evil, of course.

A/N: A few things to remember. I did jockey with the Resident Evil Timeline somewhat, jumping it forward a decade (wow, have the games been out long enough for me to say decade? God I feel old all of a sudden…) and I'm using characters from the book series and events from that.

Also, this is set shortly after the last book in the series, or Resident Evil: Veronica, and consider the events in Resident Evil 4 to be at some point in the undetermined future. (Viral Zombies and Corporate evil are just so much more interesting than hunting down the president's daughter in my opinion.)

Chapter 1: _Hello my name is Trent_

It was late, and for a Friday, when the work week ended, anything past your normal working hours deserved the term 'too damn' attached to the 'late'. But when some professions didn't warrant bankers hours. This was true of cops, doctors, firemen, and the many people in the world who didn't have the luxury of scheduling the day's events. Jandrew Miller wasn't a cop, or a firefighter, but he was in the same boat as they were. Though if you asked him he would tell you that he was in just as important a line of work.

Mr. Miller, -or Jan as he preferred to be called- was a member of Blackwater, more commonly know as a private security force, or 'private contractor' who did a large amount of work in the middle east. While he wasn't one of the rifle toting professionals who spent their time in the field in some desert village, or providing security for some private company who wanted something better than a radio carrying rent-a-cop. Currently on a rotation back stateside for training and rest after spending a year's worth of time in Basrah and Iraq.

What they didn't say was that there was the issue of wading through paperwork and information related to his vacation in the big sandbox. Had he know that he'd have to write the equivalent of a best selling novel to explain just what he'd done and why he'd done it, he would have stayed over there dodging pot shots from 'freedom fighters jumped up on khat and hashish, while he made sure that some construction workers patching shell holes from car bombs didn't get beheaded.

That's why he was in the 'office' too damn late on a Friday night sitting in front of a computer screen typing along and thinking about how he should be out enjoying the LA night life. His gray eyes watched the monitor a small frown on his average features. His tanned skin glowed somewhat oddly hued in the light of the screen. He looked up after finishing a paragraph and glanced around the office. It was the usual ultramodern style that had become so popular as of late, all of it steel and glass partitions breaking a large space down into smaller sections. Most of the ground troops who had the misfortune of having to come into the office always remarked how much it felt like a fishbowl. It was deserted this late on a Friday evening, the few windows looking outside had darkened with night while he'd been working. The office admin types had left long before and left him the sole occupant of the office. With a sigh and knowing that it would be here for him on Monday he shut off the workstation and stood up, pulling the sport coat he wore off the back of his chair and walking though the darkened office.

Taking the stairs down into the main lobby and nodded to the night guards on his way out the door and into the cool air. The Blackwater building was close enough into the downtown that they didn't have access to a parking garage. Jan made his way along the sidewalks towards his car. The streets and sidewalks weren't packed, it was the evening lull when most people were at home eating dinner. He walked the two blocks two where his pickup was parked and was surprised to find someone standing next to it, waiting for him.

"Mr. Miller I believe?" The man said, wearing a long black trench coat and a smile. Jan paused and stopped ten paces away from the man.

"People who call me 'Mr. Miller' aren't the kind of people who like to talk to me. But yes, my last name is Miller, and just who are you?" Jan asked, his right hand free and his fingers flexing in the air.

"Well Mr. Miller, I'm a friend of one of your acquaintances, two actually…John Andrews and David Trapp. My name is Trent." The man said, a smile on his face that seemed to say that he knew much more than he let on.

"John and David? From the Exeter S.T.A.R.S.? Last I heard they were, subjects of interest in that Raccoon City disaster last year. Now why would you admit to knowing them?" Jan replied, his gun hand still free to dart behind his sport coat and draw his FN Five-n-Seven. Something about this Trent didn't sit well with him.

"They've done some work for me, but the only relationship to the Raccoon City tragedy is the fact that they have crossed Umbrella."

"Oh? So why exactly are you speaking to me?"

"I have this for you Mr. Miller." Trent said and held a small USB thumb drive out to him, the mysterious man took a step forwards which Jan mirrored in reverse, his hand slipping back to grip his pistol but not remove it from it's holster. This Trent fellow had the unmistakable air of someone who shouldn't be trifled with. It wasn't fear, or anything close to it, but it was a healthy prudence. Jan didn't say anything but Trent frowned slightly. He shrugged and set the thumb drive on the hood of the truck and started to walk down the street, Jan's eyes following him as he did so.

"If they are your friends Mr. Miller, they require your assistance. The information on that drive will be of great use to them, and to you if you're a decent man." Trent said, and disappeared down an alley way. Jan watched the alley and looked to the thumb drive. On impulse he sprinted to the mouth of the alley intent on asking more questions.

But the alley was empty.

Jan stepped into his apartment, his mind had done little more than run in circles through the drive across town, not even disrupted by the attempted car-jacking on the way did little more than give him a hiccup in his train of thought. Jan didn't even take off his jacket, instead making his way too his computer and plugging in the thumb drive. After a few seconds, he was looking at the file directory almost all of it was taken up by a series of image files, with several text files at the top of the collection. It was an easy choice about which to open first since one document was entitled 'An explanation'.

_Mr. Miller, while I know that you are understandably confused at the moment, you're one of the few people who can help a rather hopeless group of individuals. David Trapp and John Andrews are members of a small group who have had the misfortune of crossing the Umbrella Corporation. While it seems unlikely that you have a clue about what is going on, their lives are in great danger. If they are your friends, you'll help them. _

_Read the information in these files, as hard as it is to believe they are not fabrications._

Beneath that was a long number with 'David Trapp' over it. The first few characters said that the international code was for France. Jan closed the file then opened up the first of the image files.

Then he picked up his phone.

Halfway around the world, a phone rang and was picked up by Leon S. Kennedy, former member of the RPD and current member of an unlikely group of individuals dedicated to fighting something that the vast majority of the world's population probably thought little more than a bad movie plot.

"Hello?"

"I need to speak to David Trapp."

"Who is this?" Leon replied, looking around the makeshift office of the house that the team had leased. John Andrews, the big, burly dark skinned former member of the Exeter S.T.A.R.S. was sitting at the old dining room table leafing through a few manila folders. He looked up at Leon and cocked his head to the side inquisitively. Leon shrugged.

"A friend of his, It's important that I speak to him now." The voice replied. Leon nodded over to the other phone in the room and John reached over to delicately lift the receiver to listen in.

"Okay, if David's here, who's calling for him, and why?" Leon asked.

"Tell him it's the guy he shot, and right now I'm looking at what seems like photos of a George Romero movie on a thumb drive that I got from some creepy guy named Trent. So let me talk to David now so perhaps I can clear things up because the long distance charges to reach France are adding up." The voice said rapidly, his tone edging quickly towards anger. Leon saw John's eyes go wide and could have sworn that he would have gone pale if he was capable. Leon knew Trent, and that was enough to startle him, the George Romero reference was a little beyond him, and David had never really talked about the missions he'd been on with the S.T.A.R.S. back in Exeter.

"Jan?" John asked into the phone.

"Is that you John? It's good to hear your voice, you and the rest of your friends have been rather…sought after." The voice on the phone replied.

"Yeah, but then the ladies have always 'sought after' me." John snapped back.

"Heh, yeah you still think you've got that sense of humor." Jan replied over the phone.

"It's not my fault that such a quick wit as mine is wasted." John replied.

"Yeah, that's why you keep from using it, right? Conservation?"

"So why are you calling Jan?" John asked, Leon being relegated to little more than a note taker on the line.

"Well, like I said, this guy's waiting by my Truck and gives me a thumb drive. It's got a bunch of information on it about some odd viruses, photos of what look like horror movie monsters and zombies. Most of it looks like technical information. That and plans for some cabin with an address in Oregon. Do you have any idea what this is about?" Jan asked.

"Oh, you know planning is David's thing." John said, working to dodge. He looked over at Leon and motioned for him to get David. The young cop nodded and headed out of the room.

"John, come on now. You have to know something about this. Trent implied that much." Jan replied, and looked up as David walked into the room. Without hesitation he picked up the phone.

"How's the leg?" David asked.

"It was my shoulder David, my left shoulder, and your .38 did a number on me too." Jan shot back.

"It was a 9mm." David replied.

"So now that we've decided that we both know each other would you explain what's going on?" Jan asked calmly.

"So Trent huh?" David said quietly.

"You know him?"

"In a manner of speaking, he's given us some jobs to do." David replied, glossing over the pair of missions that had happened with Trent's information, one had resulted in the deaths of Karen Driver and Steve Lopez, the other had nearly gotten all of them killed in an Umbrella testing facility for a code book that had been completely worthless. They hadn't heard from Trent since then…which was probably for the best since none of the team would willingly allow the man to get away without giving out a few answer.

"Jobs huh? Well it seems like he wants another job to be carried out. He's given me enough information on this house to do an assault." Jan said. He didn't see David's hand tighten on the receiver. They'd gotten enough information on Caliban Cove's research facility to do an assault. Trent's information always seemed to be just enough to get you into trouble and never enough to get you all the way out of it. He thought about Steve's slack face…turned into a mindless puppet of Dr. Griffith, Karen slowly turning into a flesh eating ghoul.

"I'd be rather worried about any information from Mr. Trent. He doesn't have the best track record with us."

"Us huh? Us is more than you and John. What about Karen and Steve? Where are they?" Jan asked, and David almost snapped the phone receiver in his hand. John's jaw clenched as he stared across the room, not seeing the wall but reliving his own nightmare from Caliban Cove.

"They're not with us." David said, his voice dark. Jan was silent on the other end of the line.

"I understand David." Jan said quietly, sighing on the other side of the line. He didn't want to press that particular issue at the moment.

"So what else did the elusive Trent give you?"

"Bunch of odd information on viruses." Jan replied.

"What kind of information?"

"I watch the Discovery Channel, but I'm not a molecular biologist."

"I see." David said.

"Listen, I don't know what kind of trouble you and the others are in, but…I have the nasty feeling that I've become a part of it." Jan replied.

"When Trent shows up, bad things happen. But you're the one who's prepared for just about anything." John said.

"That's probably best description of the man I've ever heard." Leon muttered.

"Okay, if that information is what I think it might be we shouldn't talk more about this over the phone." David said over the phone, his mind already working over just how they could handle this.

"Right, then you'd better send someone over here to look them over." Jan said, not envying the poor person who'd have to fly from Europe to the West Coast to look at some pictures on a computer thumb drive.

"Yes…that's going to be a rather difficult prospect." David said, a trace of English understatement in his words.

"Alright, let me know just what you've got planned."

"We'll call you." John said, a forced humor in his voice.

"Yeah, I've heard that one before." Jan replied and left his number before hanging up.

"So Mr. Trent has decided to attempt something new. I don't know if I like that." David said quietly after a moment of silence.

"I've _never_ liked it." John growled as a punctuation.


End file.
